Another Year Over
by chris400ad
Summary: The end of term is fast approaching and Minerva McGongall reflects on her first year as Headmistress with a little help from an old pupil of hers.


There were comparisons, because there was always going to be. It was impossible to take over a school, a stalwart of magical teaching and pride, without there being any mention of Dumbledore. Still, to many, even after Harry Potter's defeat of Voldemort the previous summer. He was the greatest wizard there ever was, and ever would be.

Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts, hoped she lived up to that name. She had been proud to serve on his staff, watch him teach, even be considered his friend. There wasn't a day that went by that she didn't consult his portrait above her desk. She knew it wasn't real, of course, but she derived a certain sense of comfort from it. A small part of him, even if it was just a magically reanimated canvas, was proud to see what she had done with the school. She liked to think he would be.

All of those that had fought in the Battle of Hogwarts had been remembered in the proper way. She'd seen to that. Out in the grounds, a statue of white marble had been resurrected in their honour. They hadn't done it for pride, or glory, and it certainly hadn't been their fight. They were still children, some of them hadn't truly seen the beauties that the world could offer. Now they never would. It was only right to remember them. It wasn't much, ostentatious to arrogant, just an open book sat on a pedestal. Their names could be seen there, the students and the Order members. Underneath a small plaque read: 'Lest they never be forgotten.' Its shine would never fade, and the marble never erode. It was the least she could have done.

She had seen Potter there more than once, usually alone. He'd come back for his final year and be mobbed by fans more than ever. Everyone wanted to see the Great Harry Potter. The Vanquisher of Voldemort, The Boy Who Lived, and whatever else they had taken to calling him these days. Poor boy had enough on his plate, but when hadn't he? McGonagall had watched him grow over the years, the weight of the world on his shoulders. She often wondered if she could had done more to help, wished she had. Then she would remember the look on his face when Carrow had spat at her. No boy who held resentment would have done that.

A knock at the door disturbed her reverie. McGonagall faltered for a moment, remembering the training she had been given as a child and marshalling her thoughts. Collecting them until she was ready. Occlumency did have its uses.

'Come in,' she said in her usual clipped tone. Where Dumbledore had been familiar with the students, treating them as family, McGonagall had always been of the belief that there had to be some boundaries. They were there to teach. They had argued about that more than once, or rather she had gotten annoyed at him and he had simply smiled serenely until she gave in.

'Sorry to interrupt, Professor.'

There he was, the boy that had consumed many of her thoughts that morning. Harry Potter. His hair was still bedraggled and stuck up at odd angles, the scar still prominent on his forehead and those green eyes that reminded her of Lily. Something had changed though, he'd matured, stopped rushing into things, taken his studies more seriously than McGonagall had ever seen before. Even rejected the Quidditch captaincy. That had surprised her. He was still Seeker, thank Merlin, but not captain. That had gone to Ginny Weasley, a good chaser in her own right. McGonagall would have preferred it to be Potter, he had always been a leader; but Weasley was desperate to be a professional and Potter an auror. Always the selfless hero. That would never change.

'Not at all, Potter.

The door swung shut behind him as he let himself into the office. He took it in for a moment, scanning the room. He'd only visited once since the year had started, when he'd been involved with an altercation between some Slytherins and Gryffindors. Some of the younger years had gotten into their heads to label all Slytherins Voldemort lovers, Potter had thought it best to correct them.

'Is there anything I can help you with?'

'I just wanted to say thank you.'

'Thank you?' McGonagall repeated, unable to stop the surprise escaping her.

'Hogwarts has always been my home. And I was worried coming back this year that that might change, but it still is. Now that the year's ending, it got me thinking. Only reason I've been able to come back, that we've all been able to come back, is you. After everything that happened last year… Well, I just thought that someone should tell you, that's all.'

'I – That's very nice of you to say, Potter.'

'I didn't say it to be nice, Professor.' Potter said quickly. McGonagall just nodded, unsure what else to say. To hear Lily and James son talk to her like that, no, not just their son. He was more than that. He'd become his own person, and an admirable one at that. Some of the students were only alive today because of his sacrifice.

There was a stilted silence, marked by careful breathing. Then Potter reached inside the pocket of his robes and pulled out a letter. It was good quality parchment and the seal on the back McGonagall could tell it was the Ministry, which could only mean one thing.

'I've been accepted into the auror programme, as long as my NEWTs are okay.'

'Professor Slughorn tells me that you have excelled yourself once again this year,' McGongall noted, 'and since Potions was always your weakest area, I would say you have little to worry about on that score. You always were destined for good things, Potter. It's good to see them finally happen.'

She extended a hand. 'Congratulations, Potter.' He looked surprised, then shook it, smiling.

'Thank you, really.'

Then the smile vanished as he hurriedly checked his watch. 'Sorry, I forgot Ginny said we had another training session. I've got to run.'

'As your Headmistress, I must simply say go and have fun.' She paused and let a small smile grace her face. 'But as your old Head of House I would ask that you beat Slytherin on Sunday, for old times' sake?'

'See you, Professor.'

'Good luck, Harry.' McGongall said quietly under her breath as she watched him leave her office, and she meant every word.


End file.
